Cycling Through 12 Tajchs

Summers have been getting ridiculously hot in recent years—so hot that you start to wonder if you’re training for a spot in a pizza oven. That’s why, whenever I can combine a cycling trip with a good swim, I’m all in! This year, I kicked off our annual MTB adventure with a mission: visit as many tajchs as possible (and swim in most of them!).

Now, for the uninitiated, tajchs are historic reservoirs built centuries ago by ingenious miners in central Slovakia. These marvels of engineering not only powered the mining industry back in the day but now double as scenic spots for swimming, fishing, and lazing around. Basically, they’re Slovakia’s hidden gems—and I was determined to make a splash in as many as possible.

But let me rewind. Our annual adventure is a tradition: three buddies from Košice, exploring a new corner of Slovakia every July around the 12th. This time, we chose the area around Banská Štiavnica, Zvolen, and Kremnica—a region rich in history, hills, and, of course, tajchs.

Our plan? Flexible. We pre-plot a route, but daily distances are adjusted based on terrain, mood, weather, and, let’s be honest, how many times we stop for snacks. This year, we packed light, staying in proper lodgings instead of camping.

On the train ride to Zvolen, I dropped a bombshell: I’d be going solo on day one. My friends gave me the “are-you-serious” look, but when I explained my tajch pilgrimage and the need for some alone time to test my legs, they shrugged and agreed. The deal was simple—we’d meet at the accommodation by evening.

We set off together from Zvolen, but under Pustý Hrad (a local castle ruin), we split ways. I headed for my solo adventure, practically giddy with excitement. The terrain started easy—a mix of forest asphalt and gravel roads. A gentle climb turned into a bumpy descent along a potholed logging trail, complete with puddles large enough to host a family of ducks.

After an hour of riding, I broke out of the forest into rolling meadows and passed through the charming villages of Bacúrov and Dubové. The scenery was lovely, and the shade of the trees kept the heat bearable. I knew that after a satisfying climb, my first tajch awaited me: Kolpašský tajch in Banský Studenec.

And oh, what a sight! A steep dam, a glistening blue lake, and just a few people lounging about—it was the definition of peace. Within minutes, I was in the water, floating in what felt like pure bliss. The water was clean, warm, and perfect. I didn’t want to leave, but with a full day ahead, I reluctantly dried off, grabbed a snack, and pedaled on.

About 20 minutes later, I arrived in Banská Štiavnica. Normally, I’d be all over the town’s historic charm and stunning architecture, but the heat turned me into a sweaty, single-minded cyclist on a mission. I powered uphill through the suburbs, feeling like I’d wandered into an industrial sauna.

Thankfully, the descent brought me to tajch #2, Beliansky. The water here wasn’t as clear, but I wasn’t picky. Another swim, another quick hydration break, and I was back in the saddle.

The next stretch—a long, sunbaked climb on asphalt—reminded me that pacing is a virtue. My tongue was practically dragging on the ground, and I silently cursed the sun. Luckily, I soon veered off into the shade of a mining trail, feeling like I’d stumbled into paradise.

Next stop: Rozgrund (tajch #3). Here’s the twist—it’s off-limits because it’s a protected drinking water source. I stared longingly at the pristine water from afar, snapped a photo, and grumbled as I rode away.

Bančiansky (tajch #4) was next. A small lake, its water didn’t scream “refreshing,” but I found a spring to refill my bottle and prepared for the climb to Hadová ridge. This spot rewarded me with a cool breeze, chirping crickets, and a moment of peace.

Then came the fun part: a fast forest descent to Hodrušské jazerá. At Dolné jazero (tajch #5), I swam again, though the water’s clarity was no match for Kolpašský.

I stopped for lunch at a nearby restaurant, and here’s where the day got interesting.

After my meal, I asked the staff if they could fill my water bottle with plain tap water. (You know, because I’d just spent money on food, drinks, and even left a tip.) To my surprise, they charged me 10 cents per deciliter. At first, I was annoyed—charging for tap water? Seriously? Later, I realized they might have to bring in water from elsewhere, so maybe I was too quick to judge. But at the time, I rolled my eyes and rode off, muttering something about “hydration tax.”

Horné Hodrušské (tajch #6) was next. With its artificial beach and uninspiring surroundings, it felt more like a budget resort than a historic tajch.

I grabbed a coffee and prepared for the climb to the ridge.

At the top, I stumbled upon Červená studňa (tajch #7), which is now more of a swamp than a lake. Still, it was fascinating to think about its past life as a key part of the mining water system.

Then came Ottergrund (tajch #8), the highest tajch of all. The views over Banská Štiavnica were breathtaking, especially as the sun began to set. After some quick photos, I hit the trails for a thrilling descent, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning.

At Klinger (tajch #9), the lively evening crowd made it clear why this tajch is a local favorite. But with daylight fading, I didn’t stay long.

My final stops were Veľký Vindšachtský (tajch #10) and Veľký Richňavský (tajch #11), where the late evening sun painted everything in warm, golden hues. I skipped the swims—I was too tired to float, let alone paddle!

As twilight settled, I reached Moderštôlne (tajch #12), my last stop of the day. Someone was enjoying a serene evening swim, but I just admired the scene and headed for the village of Hodruša-Hámre.

By the time I reunited with my friends, I was utterly spent but bursting with stories. We laughed, swapped tales, and collapsed into bed like logs. Tomorrow, the adventure would continue, but for now, I was content—and maybe just a little smug about my tajch tally!

Martin.